Nipping
by 1000th Ghost
Summary: Rankin/Bass Christmas classic, "Jack Frost". There is more to the story of Jack Frost and his beautiful Elisa, starting with frosted, kissed roses.


**Nipping**

**By: 1000th Ghost**

*This story is dedicated to anyone who, like me, consistently bawls every Christmas when Jack does not end up with Elisa.*

"_He's got cold fingers."_

_-Dummy/Kubla Kraus (Jack Frost)_

"And that's the story of Jack Frost."

So the light was turned out, and Pardon-Me-Pete the Groundhog waved farewell. For the story – that is, as much of the story as he knew – had been told.

He shouldn't be blamed for giving incomplete rendition because it was all Jack Frost had told him. Jack himself had been sworn to secrecy by Father Winter, and now only those in The Kingdom of the Winter Clouds knew the truth.

That there was more to the story of Jack Frost and his beautiful Elisa, starting with frosted, kissed roses.

* * *

No more than five minutes after he had left heartbroken, Jack Frost was back in January Junction.

"Jack," Father Winter had informed him, "I'm afraid you cannot stay."

Jack looked up in surprise, tears glistening in his clear, blue eyes. An image of Elisa waving goodbye to him with the same bouquet he had kissed burned in his mind, twisting the knife in deeper. "S-sir?"

"You married her, Jack." He ignored the shocked, incredulous expression he was met with. "Spring had begun, yes, and you were no longer mortal, but you kissed her during the wedding ceremony before her groom could get a chance to."

"Me?" Jack exclaimed. "No, no, I-I didn't kiss her at all! I-"

"Not a mortal kiss but the kiss that could only come from a winter sprite. You frosted her bouquet; _you _kissed the bride."

Jack stared, dumfounded. "Well, I…I certainly didn't _mean _to marry her. I wanted to, of course, and I tried to, but she loves Sir Ravenal-"

"She only thinks that she loves the knight," Father Winter interrupted. "She loves the idea of him because she has told herself jokingly since childhood that she would marry a 'knight in golden armor'. But she loves – _truly _loves – Jack Frost. Do you think I would have given you your humanity otherwise?" He paused while Jack slowly shook his head. "You are fated to be with her: the one mortal who could ever love Jack Frost. I had hoped by granting you mortality you could secure the union, but I can now see that I was mistaken."

Jack hung his head. "I'm sorry that I failed you, Father Winter." Then he straightened and looked the powerful being in the eyes. "But any pain you or fate might have cannot even begin to fathom how I feel."

Father Winter nodded. "I know, Jack, I know. I am sorry for what has transpired and for what I must now do." Jack opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about, but he was not given a chance. "You are married to a mortal and therefore have to return to the mortal world. She will not be able to see or feel you – I doubt she will even know you are there at all – but you must endure this and stay by her side regardless."

"What about Sir Ravenal? She's about to marry him!"

Father Winter shook his head. "She loves Jack Frost. She will not marry the knight. Farewell, Jack."

With that, Jack was falling down to earth once again. As he got closer, he could see the events at the wedding he had just left.

Elisa was breathtaking, walking down the snow-covered path towards the golden knight. But her head was bowed, and silent tears dripped from her lashes and fell on the seemingly white roses, making tiny trails of red as they melted the ice away.

Sir Ravenal Rightfellow was kind and good, she knew. Perhaps he even loved her.

But the one she had loved her whole life had already kissed the bride.

She did love Sir Ravenal, she told herself, but as her feet brought her closer to her groom, a panic started to wrap around her heart.

_"Aren't you in love with _anybody _yet?"_

_"Only Jack Frost!"_

_"Jack Frost, not only are you a magician…you're a hero!"_

_"What is it, Elisa? Still Jack Snip?"_

_"I want him to be there. I don't know why. I only knew him for those few weeks, yet it seemed like I knew him all my life."_

_"I never heard her say she loved anyone before Sir Ravenal…except Jack Frost. He's just a dream. But she'll always love Jack Frost…"_

_"An old friend kissed the bride…"_

With a cry, she clutched the roses to her chest and broke into a desperate run. Past her bewildered groom, past her shocked parents and guests, out of the yard, away from the marriage.

Her breath came in short gasps, and her wedding gown tore and was soiled when she tripped, but still she continued. Only when she made it to the lake where Jack Frost had saved her did she realize she had no destination in mind. She collapsed in the snow, and the icy jolt made her realize what she had been running towards.

She wanted to be _cold_. She wanted to feel the snow and ice until her lips were blue and her fingers numb because it meant that he had _been _there – maybe was there now.

And Jack had in fact been following her as she ran, as Father Winter commanded, and now stood over his bride who lay face down in the snow, sobbing as if her heart would break.

It was spring, and he had no more winter powers, but he blew lightly on the snow that was already on the ground and caused it to cover her, just a thin layer of frost. Elisa shivered, looked up, her green eyes glistening with tears, and murmured, "…Jack?"

He ached to touch her, to let her know that, yes, he w_as _there, but besides a shiver and a tear, how could she know he was here?

Elisa eventually rose and made a makeshift fire from branches littering the ground. Although she longed to feel the frigidness, she also knew that, realistically, she could not be permanently frozen.

Just like, realistically, she could not stay with the magic and myth who created the winter weather.

And yet she did stay, curled by the fire in her destroyed wedding gown, staring with wide eyes at her flowers (how had she ever thought a single, red rose in a box could compare to the beauty of snow-white roses?) and the goose bumps which occasionally covered her skin. For he had taken to holding her in his arms, unbeknownst to her, every half hour or so, to at least attempt to remind her that he was with her.

* * *

The blond girl awoke with a start. The fire was out, and the sky was black, and she was bitterly, bitterly cold.

It felt wonderful.

But she also felt alone, even though, as far as she or anyone could see, she had been alone the entire time.

"Jack?" she called, rising to her feet.

Without hesitating, she tore through the forest, crying out his name. The trees, she saw, were already beginning to sprout new leaves, and yellow tulips were starting to push their way out of the partially melted snow.

Spring was here, and he would disappear until the following winter, and she stumbled through the almost pitch-black woods frantically, searching for some recent sign of his work.

Now Jack had journeyed into the forest only because he knew Elisa could not last long without a fire, and he had the foolish notion to try and gather branches and make a new one. It was impossible, of course, but he could not let himself idly sit while his beloved slowly froze to death.

Soon he heard her pleading – "Please, please, Jack, come back to me! I-I love you!" – and he flew towards her running figure, never mind the consequences.

His lips, frozen and transparent and only detectable through their stinging chill, pressed against hers, and she came to a halt and murmured, "_Oh, Jack..._" against them, and her warmth mingled with his wintriness beautifully.

She could feel no solid presence, there was nothing but the bitingness, but when he urged her lips apart and entered her sweet cavern, she wrapped her arms around his nothingness and didn't care how absurd she must look.

She tasted unlike anything he had ever experienced before: distinctly alive and flowing and _human_. He knew that if he had only somehow let her know who he was instead of claiming to be just a common tailor, she would have given herself to him immediately, and now he would be returning her kiss with the hot bloodedness it was impossible for a sprite to possess.

Suddenly, the clouds shifted, and the moon glow shone around them, and Elisa opened her eyes to view the _shadow _of a very familiar looking man…

And as she marveled, a thought struck him: how had he frosted her roses if all his powers vanished with the spring? Perhaps…

He broke away from the kiss and hurrying to an area of grass where the snow had already entirely melted, created a single word in icy script.

**Snip**

"Y-you mean," Elisa stuttered, "it was you all the time?"

Father Winter looked down on the scene, deep in thought. He could not grant Jack mortality for a second time; they had had a deal, and Jack had failed. But he could not let the pair continue in this way, doomed to love a person they could never really have.

Jack could not be fully mortal, but maybe he did not have to be fully sprite either.

As Elisa watched in amazement, the shadow before her changed into the form of Jack Snip that she had seen countless times before.

Jack stared at his own hand, equally amazed at the sudden transformation.

"Elisa?" he tried, and when she nodded, he knew that he could talk once again.

"I'm so, so sorry, Jack," Elisa said, remorse dripping from her words. "I…I had no idea." She paused. "Are you…_really_…?" She reached a hand out as if to touch his cheek but then began to draw it back and looked shyly away.

He reached out and caught her hand in his own, and she gasped at how cold it was, and he placed her palm against his marble cheek and held it in place.

She smiled, a bit uncertain but thrilled nonetheless, and he spoke, "Come home with me."

She shook her head. "No, not yet, Mama and Papa still think I'm marrying Sir Ravenal, and I don't want-"

He removed her hand from his cheek and instead narrowed his eyes and pressed her fingers to his lips. "No. _My _home." His grip tightened. "If you'll let it be, our home."

* * *

On the way to Kubla Kraus's castle on Miserable Mountain, he told the story of how he had sacrificed his immortality for a chance of winning her love, how he had given up the chance to save her and the town, how he had become mortal yet again to defeat the dictator, thereby obtaining his castle, horse, and gold.

And as the girl drifted off to sleep, carried securely in his arms when the journey became too tiring, he whispered how he thought he had lost her forever…but had really accidently made her his wife.

When they finally arrived at the castle, Jack carried the slumbering bundle of tattered, wet silk and disheveled hair up to the main bedroom. Despite her unkempt appearance, he couldn't help but stare in adoring awe at the glow radiating from her cheeks, bright red from the cold. Her chest rose and fell with each breath that passed her cherry lips, settled into a rosebud "O".

He _had _her, his treasured Elisa, the girl who saw him as a man, not simply a legend. The girl he had yearned for all those long, lonely winter months.

He placed her in Kubla's old bed, gingerly so as not to wake her. He briefly wondered whether he should change her into fresh clothes but quickly removed the thought from his head. It was unlikely that there would be a woman's nightgown in the castle in the first place. And besides that…

He had caught her undressing, just once. Her Papa's house was small, and the attic room he shared with the real Snip was only accessible by crawling up a ladder positioned in Elisa's and Holly's room. He always called down to her to make sure it was alright for him to descend, and she always chirped back to him either "You may come down, Mr. Snip!" or "Just a moment, Mr. Snip!" or nothing at all if she wasn't there.

On this occasion, there had been no reply, so he climbed down into her room. He had been washing his face and had removed his shirt so as not to get water on it but realized too late that his towel had fallen through the hole in the floor and into the room below.

He heard a surprised "Oh!" from behind him and turned in time to see a fleeting glimpse of her bare breasts before she covered them with a dripping wet washcloth, water trickling down and splattering on her simple slip. The white, soaked terry cloth was practically transparent and did little to conceal her rosy, peaked nipples, hardening from the sudden coldness of the washcloth.

They stared at each other, each partially unclothed, completely motionless. It was somehow not in the least bit awkward and hardly even felt indecent, although it arguably should have. It seemed natural and essential and sincere, and after a minute or two, he simply uttered, "I'm sorry" and disappeared back up the ladder. The incident was never spoken of again.

Now, faced with a similar predicament, the memories appeared fresh in his mind, and the thought of viewing the sight again was overwhelming.

He opened a trunk at the foot of the bed, hoping against hope there was _something _he could use as a nightgown, and was surprised to find a plentiful assortment of clothes that seemed to be almost custom-made for Elisa. His surprise quickly faded when he remembered that when Kubla had kidnapped Elisa, intending to wed her, it would have only made sense to be prepared with a wardrobe.

Another trunk housed male garments, and he dressed himself first, wondering what he would do if Elisa were to suddenly awaken. The nightgown was oversized, as it was meant for Kubla, but it was suitable.

Next he chose a nightgown for Elisa: modest with long sleeves to prevent her from becoming even colder. He undressed her carefully, keeping exposure and contact to an absolute minimum (although his hand may have accidentally strayed once or twice.

For the briefest of seconds, her eyelids fluttered opened, and she looked at him blearily, still essentially asleep, smiled softly, and closed her eyes once more.

When the nightgown was slipped over her head, he walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers. The bed was hard and uncomfortable, and he made a mental note to buy a more luxurious mattress.

He stayed as far away from the girl as the bed permitted – "Even though," he reminded himself, "she is my wife" – not knowing yet how she would react to him and their somewhat intimate situation.

* * *

The clock struck eleven before they awoke, and the sun shone triumphantly through the windows.

Jack turned to find Elisa gazing at him tenderly, her features blissfully content.

"I was afraid it had all been a dream," she said softly.

"Well, no, it, um, it wasn't a dream," he stammered.

"And are you really human?" she questioned earnestly. "For good?"

"I, uh, I-I don't know." The heavy comforter which covered them both was frigid underneath when it should have been toasty. "I don't think I _could _be; Father Winter's powers aren't great enough to undo a deal he had already made, and I wasn't able to become human in time." Elisa looked down at her pillow sorrowfully, and he took her hand underneath the covers. "But he must have taken pity on me," he finished quickly, "because here I am! I guess he made me…half and half."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How did you frost my bouquet or write 'Snip' if your powers disappear in the spring?"

"Maybe…" Jack paused. "Maybe my love was just…" He shrugged, knowing the idea sounded hackneyed but unable to think of another explanation. "…stronger than what I was and wasn't supposed to be able to do."

"And do you love me, Jack?" He knew she knew the answer but allowed her to continue. "I've loved you for _such _a long time, but I never thought you-"

He smiled. "I gave up immortality just to be with you. You can never doubt it."

Elisa giggled, positively, radiantly happy. "I always hoped I could become Mrs. Frost-" Then she stopped suddenly, the gravity of her words sinking in. A blush sprang to her cheeks as she fingered the unfamiliar material on her sleeve.

"I-I hope you don't mind," Jack said hurriedly, tripping over his words. "Your dress was dirty and wet, and I didn't want you to be ill."

Elisa was silent for a moment, looking distantly into space. Then she murmured, "No…no, I don't mind," and held his stare, her green eyes wide and glowing. "I-I am your wife, after all."

Slowly, deftly he reached a hand out and nipped at her nose.

Then in a flash – the agility of a sprite with the solidness of a human – he was at her side, partially over her, kissing her as he had longed to the night before and so many moments besides.

She gasped from the suddenness then whimpered and clutched onto his shoulders, drawing him closer. She seemed almost desperate to just hold him and know that he was _real_, and he realized that she had felt even more pain than he had. He had only even known about her for a winter; she had loved him for her _entire life_…

Her tongue scraped leisurely against the roof of his mouth, and she felt his erection press against her hip.

His right hand traveled to the row of buttons going down the front of her nightgown, and he swiftly undid the first five, ending just below her rib cage. He paused, letting her know that he would stop if she wanted him to, but she showed no resistance, and he pushed the unbuttoned flaps of cloth apart.

She was beautiful.

One thumb brushed the tip of her nipple, then his hand spread over her supple, rounded breast and squeezed gently.

She cried out, her exclamation muffled by his mouth, and he broke the kiss and looked at her in concern.

"You've got cold fingers," she mumbled breathlessly, her eyes half lidded, staring at him lustfully.

He smiled mischievously, nipped at her nose again, and lowered his lips.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Jack Frost traveled back to town the following day and after some vague explaining ("I loved Mr. Snip, but when he vanished, I thought he was gone and resorted to marrying Sir Ravenal. Kubla Kraus had been keeping him prisoner in his dungeon, but now he's free and came for me."), convinced Elisa's parents that they were meant to be. Sir Ravenal had rejoined King Arthur after he had been rejected, and Jack and Elisa were "married" properly to avoid scandal.

Every winter, he became a sprite once more to continue his winter jobs (and to ensure a certain groundhog got six more weeks of shuteye), but Father Winter allowed him to return to his hybrid condition every evening and to spend nights with his wife in their castle. Reading the newspaper, drinking tea, making love by the fire. Leading a simple life.

Spring, summer, and fall, he behaved like any other human, although he and Elisa rarely went into town so as not to arise suspicion. In time, hardly anyone remembered the Late Pumpkin Peasants' daughter who lived with the mysterious tailor in the distant castle.

Jack, being half immortal, never aged, and when his beloved Elisa was nearing death, he carried her spirit, beautiful and young once again, up to The Kingdom of the Winter Clouds.

Father Winter permanently made Jack an immortal as he had been before and, after Jack promised to never reveal to anyone on earth that he had mated and stolen a mortal bride, allowed Elisa to stay with him in his wintery home for all eternity.

So, you see, when Jack told his tale to Pardon-Me-Pete, he was forced to leave out the happy ending for fear of losing Elisa yet again.

And if he ever cared that the groundhog spread the incomplete version, he never complained. For what could he complain about, knowing that he was no longer one of a kind?

**The End**


End file.
